


Vessel of the soul

by Winmance



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Sam, Jealous Dean, M/M, Rimming, Soulmates, Tattooed Dean, Tattooed Sam, Tattoos, Through the Years, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 14:03:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16430813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winmance/pseuds/Winmance
Summary: If the body is the vessel of the soul, it’s only logical for Sam’s body to be covered with Dean’s name, as much as it is for Dean’s to be covered with Sam’s.





	Vessel of the soul

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Сосуд души (Vessel of the soul)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17118113) by [daria_moose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daria_moose/pseuds/daria_moose)



> Beta by debivc78

"Dad’s gonna kill you" Sam says, letting his fingers trace gently over Dean’s raw skin.

“Well, he can’t be about mad something he doesn’t know” Dean winks, tucking his shirt back in.

The tattoo itself isn’t really big or elaborate, just a black “Rock’n roll” written below his hip. Sam isn’t really sure why Dean did it, but he thinks it’s just a way for his brother to rebel against their father without him being aware of it. John has strict rules when it comes to the boys’ appearance: Don’t dye your hair, get piercings, or anything else that will draw attention to yourself or our family.

Tattoos, of course, are out of question, and yet here Dean is, with a permanent thing on his body that no sixteen year old should have.

“You won’t tell him, right?” Dean asks, a little anxious

“Of course I won’t!” He assures, a little hurt by Dean’s question. He would never do anything that could hurt Dean in any way, and he sure as hell won’t break Dean’s trust. “Did it hurt?”

“Nah”

Sam raises his eyebrows, looking at his brother with insistence, making Dean shift awkwardly on the bed.

“I mean, a little? But it’s a good pain”

“You want more?”

“Yeah, I already thought about some others I could do” Dean says, taking a notebook out of his bag and showing his design to Sam.

“Maybe I could come with you next time?”

“That would be cool, yeah” Dean smiles “And know what? When you’re my age, I'll pay for yours”

That’s all it takes for Sam to launch himself onto Dean’s neck, hugging him as tight as he can while his brother laughs in surprise and ruffs his hair.

On Sam’s sixteenth birthday, Dean takes him to a tattoo shop. They share smiles and jokes as the men tattoo them. A proud “Big bro” on Dean’s chest, under the Led Zeppelin Zoso symbol he got a year ago, and a shy “Little bro” on Sam’s ankle.  

“You love it?” Dean asks, holding Sam’s foot in his hands as they lay on the bed.

There’s a lot going on, on Dean’s face, love, pride, adoration, and something else Sam can’t place right now, but whatever it is, it looks good.

“Yeah, I want another one already”

Dean laughs, deep and beautiful, his head falling back and Sam can’t help the warmth spreading through his chest knowing he’s the one who makes Dean laugh like that.

“Better wait a few months, little bro” He says once he calmed down. He lifted Sam’s leg a little higher until he can press a soft kiss over Sam’s tattoo, gentle enough not to hurt.

Sam’s heart starts beating faster, and a deep blush spreads over his face. He knows the kiss is innocent, knows it all too well, but his sinful mind can’t seem to understand that and he can already feel his dick hardening.

“You could do the next one maybe?” He asks “It doesn’t seem that hard?”

“Trust me that much?” Dean asks surprised

“Of course I do”

A huge smile spreads over Dean’s face, which makes Sam blush all over again.

“We’ll save that for your eighteenth birthday. I’ll tattoo you, and you’ll tattoo me, how does that sound?”

“Awesome” Sam says, already counting the days.

Eighteen comes around, and instead of Dean’s soft fingers on his skin like he'd dreamed of, Sam ends up alone in a tattoo shop in California. Miles away from his brother, his bag with all of his belongings on the floor.

“You sure about this, buddy?” The tattooist asks again

“Can you do it or not?” Sam asks harshly

“Well… Yeah, sure”

“Then do it”

He doesn’t say anything else and starts tattooing, inscribing the indelible letters on each one of Sam's fingers until “Dean” can be read on them.

On the other side of the county, the words “No strings” are appearing on Dean’s arm as he downs yet another bottle of beer, trying to forget the pain as best as he can.

Stanford went away one night like it never existed. Disappearing under flames and screams, pain and regrets.  Days later “November 2nd” is tattooed on Sam’s skin with flames around it, for both the girl he loved and the one who brought him into this world.

“You good?” Dean asks as he drove away from the tattoo shop

'I killed her' he wants to say, 'I killed her, and I hurt you, and nothing will ever be the same.'

“Yeah” He replies simply

Dean’s body had changed since the last time Sam saw it.  Words and drawings had been added here and there, all of them connected to Sam in some way. Sam spent hours tracing them, trying to memorize every one of the details as much as he could, trying to get back all the time he lost.

“How do you explain the one on your fingers?” Dean asks, laying half naked on the bed so Sam can take a better look

“I say it’s for the one I loved the most” Sam confesses, tracing the black impala on Dean’s foot “The one I hurt the most”

Without saying a word, Dean went to his bag and got some stuff out, dropping them on the bed before handing a needle to Sam.

“Dean, I don’t know-“

“Doesn’t matter” He says “I want you to do it”

Sam swallows hard, unable to understand how Dean still can trust him after everything he'd done. How he can ask Sam to mark his skin forever after all the pain he'd made him suffer.

“Where do you want it?”

“On my fingers”

“What-What do you want?”

“Sammy” Dean says “The one that I love the most. The one that I forgive, always”

“If I hurt you-“

“You won’t” Dean promises “I’m a tough guy, Sammy”

The letters are a little messy, and a little too dark, but Dean seems to love it better than any of his other tattoos. When morning comes, Sam’s chest is marked “D.W”over his heart, and Dean's with an “S.W” over his.  The only person who ever mattered to either of them.

Years come and go, and quickly, and neither of the brothers steps inside a tattoo shop again. Choosing instead the quiet comfort of their motel room and the loving touch of each other when the urge for more ink came over them.

Dean comes back from hell and Sam tattoos “To Hell and Back” on his back, before adding another tattoo on his ribs saying “My soul belongs to Sam Winchester”.

“Possessive much?” Dean laughs

“Yeah well, now they'll know, won’t they?”

In return, Dean tattoos the date of Sam’s death on his shoulder, and after Sam asked him, the date of Dean’s escape from death.

“The day I died and the day I came back to life” Sam explained “The day I got my soulmate back”

They don’t ask questions before tattooing each other. Each simply lets the other choose the next tattoo, without caring what it is.

They don’t talk about what they do after either.

They don’t talk about the way Dean always lets his lips travel over Sam’s body after tattooing him. His tongue licking and kissing every inch of his body until he can bury his face between Sam’s cheeks and devour him as if he was the best thing in the world.

They don’t talk about the way Sam’s mouth always ends up swallowing Dean deep down his throat, or the way his brother holds onto his hair as he comes.

They don’t talk about the kisses, the promises, the hugs and the caresses.

They don’t talk about it, because they never needed to.

“Did you see how he looked at you?” Dean asks, closing the motel room door “Dude was drooling over you”

“And?” Sam says, frowning “You don’t think I’m hot enough to attract attention?”

“I think they should know that you’re off limits” Dean corrects him

“Am I?”

“You don’t think you are?” Dean asks surprised “You think anyone else can touch you? Put their dirty hands on your masterpiece of a body?” He stands closer to Sam, toe to toe, before letting his lips trace over his mouth “You think anyone else has any right to look at you?”

“Maybe?” Sam swallows hard, goose bumps popping up when he feels Dean’s breath against his skin

“Well Sammy, you couldn’t be more wrong”

Dean takes his hand and guides him to the bed, pushing Sam onto it before taking his clothes off. Sam doesn’t protest, simply lets Dean do whatever he wants with him.

He’s pushed onto his stomach, his face pressed down in the pillow as he tries to get a glance of what Dean is doing, but just when he expects to feel Dean’s tongue or lips, he feels the familiar touch of laytex gloves and hears the hum of the tattoo gun .

“When did you get that out?” Sam asks spuriously

“I’m always ready, Sammy”

Dean cleans the skin on his ass, while Sam's hips move on their own, thrusting against the mattress with the excitement of whats to come. As the needle begins tracing his skin, Dean holds him still with his leg on his back and Sam’s dick gets so hard it hurts.

He needs to move, needs to touch himself, to touch Dean, to see what's on his ass and fuck, if this isn't the hottest thing they've ever done.

“Here. Now they’ll know” Dean says after a while, hours maybe, Sam isn’t really sure.

He wants to get up, but Dean’s fingers are pressing against his rim and the boner he forgot about is back again.

“Hush, little brother” Dean orders when Sam tries to roll to his back “You won’t be able to sit for a few days”

A shiver goes through Sam, as he moves his hips to push Dean’s fingers deeper inside of him, to move them faster, while Dean does the same, hitting his prostate every single time.

It’s not long before Dean’s fingers disappear, his dick takes their place in one movement that makes Sam scream so hard that the guy next door knocks on the wall.

“Always been such a screamer” Dean laughs, not moving his hips just yet “First time I fucked you, I thought you were faking. I mean how can someone enjoy getting their ass ruined so much?”

“Dean, please” Sam begs, trying to move his ass. His right cheek is burning from the brand new tattoo, but he doesn’t care. He needs Dean to move, now!

“I don’t know, I kind of like this position” Dean says, dropping little kisses on Sam’s neck “Maybe I should do that? Stay inside of you all day without moving? Using your little ass as my personal cock warmer?”

“Fuck” Sam cries out “Move, please move, I need it”

Dean laughs before pulling almost all the way out and slamming hard back in.  The whole bed starts to shake with his thrusts as Dean fucks into him for real.  Long deep strokes that nail his prostate every single time until Sam is screaming so much his throat hurts.

“So tight Sammy, even after all this time” Dean moans, pulling Sam up so his back is pressing against his chest. “Perfect for me, ain’t you?”

“Just for you” Sam pants, holding Dean's hands against his stomach where he can feel his dick inside “Just for you”

“Damn Sammy”

Dean fucks him harder until Sam has no other option but lay down again, his whole body pressed into the mattress while his ass stays in the air, free for Dean to use as he wants.

Dean thrusts becomes more erratic and Sam clamps around him until Dean is shooting inside of him, his whole body convulsing with his orgasm.

Sam follows almost immediately, and Dean continues to fuck him through it until they’re both a mess of cum and sweat.

“Shit” Dean says, rolling on the bed next to Sam “Fucking shit you’re good”

“Not bad yourself” Sam laughs, as he collapses with his face against Dean’s chest.  It's a little sweaty and sticky but he knows laying on his back may not be the best idea right now.

Dean is playing with his hair softly while his other hand is resting on top of Sam’s, “Sam” and “Dean” melting together on their fingers.

“What did you do?” He asks after a while “On my ass, I mean”

“Oh” Dean laughs “You’ll see”

Sam frowns before getting up and standing naked in front of the mirror, cum dropping from his ass as he reads the sentence on his raw skin. “Property of Dean Winchester”.

“I can’t believe you did that”

“You love it?” Dean asks, hugging Sam from the front, so Sam can continue to admire his handiwork.

“Hell yeah”

“And what would you think if I had my handprint, right here?” Dean asks, slapping Sam’s left cheek

Sam yells in surprise, pushing against Dean, and soon enough, he can feel his dick responding once again.

“I would love that” He confesses “But only if I can tattoo you back”

“Where?”

“You don’t need to know yet” Sam replies with a smirk.

If the body is the vessel of the soul, it’s only logical for Sam’s body to be covered with Dean’s name, as much as it is for Dean’s to be covered with Sam’s.


End file.
